


What We Do

by cirque



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Adultery, Angst, F/M, Pre-Canon, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cirque/pseuds/cirque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn't the life she wanted: risking her career for another woman's husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/gifts).



> Written for Yuletide 2012, for cerie - I hope you like this my dear! This story was an angst!fest to write, so I hope I've done TJ and Young's story justice. I've created a fanmix for this fic, which you can find [here](http://novoluxa.livejournal.com/7752.html).
> 
> Incredible thanks to my wonderful betas raspberryhunter and busaikko; without whom this fic would be a whole lot shorter and a whole lot bleaker.

Tamara was twenty-three and the youngest of her squadron, but she'd always been a tough kid and pushed herself to run faster, reload quicker, and shout louder than her rowdy teammates. She took a beating when it came to hand-to-hand combat, but could hold her own in target practice, and easily best them in sprinting.

In the locker-room they jostled around, tugging on her hair and giving her a kid’s nickname, roughing her up like one of the boys, clapping her on the back with heavy fists and knocking the wind right out of her. She joined the SGC as Tamara, and three days in everyone was calling her TJ.

"They respect you," said Colonel Young, cornering her one evening. It was late and she wasn’t entirely sure why she was in a hurry to leave the base considering the only thing waiting for her at home was a microwave meal.

"Oh, is that how they show it?" She laughed awkwardly. Lately she'd been finding it difficult to meet his eyes. There was something in there that she couldn’t quite make out; like some private joke he wasn’t willing to share.

Colonel Young laughed with her, which put her at ease. She'd been a member of Stargate Command for only a few months, and she was still getting the hang of all this space travel stuff. She was naturally doubtful. She'd never been entirely at ease with hard science and, no matter how many instructional DVDs Doctor Jackson prepared, she was still not certain how Stargates worked.

"TJ," said the Colonel, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She rolled her eyes; she might've known that her nickname would catch on. "Yes, sir?"

"I…" They both looked at his hand on her shoulder, and he shuffled uncomfortably. "Nothing." He stared at her for a while, and all she could hear was the dull thump-thud of her pulse in her ears because _this is the Colonel here, he shouldn't be looking at me like this_. She felt stupid in her too-big uniform with her messy hair and a kid's nickname, and all she could do was stare at the Air Force insignia on his jacket and hope he’d back away.

He punched her shoulder lightly. "Good work today. Keep this up, and you might make Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." She fiddled with a loose button on her cuff. "Thank you, sir. But I'm not so sure I want that."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking about going back to med school, you know, proper medical training." She said this hesitantly, not because she was unsure, but because she knew how she must sound: no more than a kid, carrying a gun and wanting to save the world, wanting to be an astronaut one minute and a lawyer the next.

But he looked at her kindly. "That's great. I mean, we'll miss you if you go, but if it's what you want…?"

"It is." She added a nod for emphasis. The Colonel had a way of making her pipe dream seem real somehow. Hell, she figured that if people could manage space-travel, then she could manage to get an MD.

"We all want to change lives one way or another, right?" He said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

* * *

TJ was twenty-six years old, exact to the day. She stood barefoot in front of the locker room mirror, in her uniform slacks and a dark-green cami, inspecting her slim body: bruises on her upper arms, tension bandages around her ankles, a love bite on her neck that she’d skilfully been hiding under her shirt collar. It was an art that she had perfected of late. She'd been training, hard, pushing her body more than she was comfortable with because, in a room not far from where she stood, was a gate that could create wormholes through space. And she was gunning for a position at Icarus.

She wasn't exactly sure when med school became less of a dream and more of a thing she talked about when she was incredibly drunk. 'Doctor Johansen' didn’t have quite the same ring to it as 'Lieutenant Johansen' these days.

She stretched to test her muscles, and saw Colonel Young's reflection in the mirror. _He always looks guilty,_ she thought, _like a kid testing his limits._

"Oh," she said, turning and flashing him a grin, "hey."

"Hey. Happy birthday," he gave an awkward sort of half-smile as though he wasn't sure whether congratulating her on surviving twenty-six years was within the boundaries of their completely insane relationship.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Got any plans, a party or anything?" Which she immediately translated as, _are you free tonight?_ She laughed; the Colonel was notoriously bad with words and she marveled that they'd managed to keep their relationship a secret for this long without him blurting it out.

"My parents invited me to dinner, but that's not until tomorrow," she replied, a little too quickly.

"Oh. I was wondering if I could come over? I have a present for you."

She giggled, but shut herself up before any passers-by could hear. "Sure. I'll be in. Call before coming over, yeah?" The last thing they needed was someone overhearing.

He nodded and wheeled around on his heels, retreating back the way he came, and she pressed her hand palm-up on the mirror, her fingers spread like starfish. This was all too unreal, this _relationship_ thing they had going. She wasn't entirely sure 'relationship' was the right word to describe the crazy, topsy-turvy way she'd one day found herself in bed with her commanding officer.

* * *

TJ's house was moderately pretty, she thought. She prided herself on its cleanliness and general adherence to aesthetics, but was fully aware that this was mostly due to the fact that she rarely spent time in it. Tonight, she threw her backpack on the sofa and kicked her shoes underneath the stairs, eyes on a box of Godiva chocolates that the boys at work had given her as a present.

"Everyone deserves chocolate on their birthday, right?" she said to the fish in the tank on the kitchen table. They glugged goofily and flicked their lithe tails in what she assumed was agreement.  

She sipped coffee at the table, well aware that chocolates on an empty stomach weren't a great idea, and that she was supposed to be a model citizen in Air Force slacks, and yet here she was drinking coffee from a Bugs Bunny mug at seven in the evening. When her phone rang, she slapped it against her ear with a little too much force, and felt the sugar buzz around her head. _Woah._

"Yeah?"

"Hello to you too."

"Rachel!" TJ could almost hear her sister's trademark raised-eyebrow when she spoke. "Hi!"

"I just wanted to wish my little sister happy birthday. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thank you. How're the kids?" TJ could barely count on one hand the number of months it'd been since she'd last seen Rachel and the kids.

"They're good. Regular pains in the butt, but good. They say hi, by the way."

TJ laughed; she could hear raucous TV sounds issuing from somewhere in Rachel’s vicinity, and made a mental promise to visit them soon.

"So," Rachel dropped her good humored tone of voice and slipped into a conspirator's whisper, "how are things going with you and…? What's his name again?"

"Colonel Young. And fine, things are going fine, actually." TJ was vaguely certain of this fact; she and the Colonel hadn't argued, their work relationship was still intact, and the sex was _great,_ but she got the odd impression that there was something more, something he was hiding from her.

"Oh, I'm glad." TJ could practically feel the sarcasm radiating from her sister, and rolled her eyes as she topped up her mug. Rachel had never approved of her involvement with Young, to say the least. "Isn't it illegal or something, for you guys to be together?"

TJ sighed; her sister knew well enough just how many rules she was breaking. "It's difficult… And, anyway, we're not hurting anyone." She added that last part hurriedly, more for her own benefit than Rachel's.

"Yeah," Rachel's voice was quiet, barely audible over the kids' yelling. "Just… be careful, yeah? Make sure you know what you're doing."

"Yeah." In reality, she hadn't known what she was doing for months; this was crazy, this was ridiculous, this was _so unlike her,_ and it was terrifying, truly terrifying; in a job where she travelled through wormholes multiple times a week, this _thing,_ this affair, was the scariest aspect of her life. "I'm fine," she said, and hung up. _Just fine…_

* * *

TJ was bored, lying barefoot across the length of the sofa, her legs dangling off the edge, kicking at the air. The chocolates were entirely gone, buzzing around her system like a thousand little lightning bugs, and she had her cell phone clutched in one hand.

"I'm done sitting home alone on my birthday, _waiting for a guy to call_ ," she said, aloud, to the empty room and to her bobbing fish.

She wasn't exactly sure when The Great Plan occurred to her, only that one minute she had been bored and moping, the next she was utterly resolved to dress up and drive over to Young's place. She wasn't drunk, which would be her usual excuse for something this silly, although she was well and truly buzzed on a sugar high, and now surprising Young seemed like the greatest idea she'd ever had. The look on his face would be worth it; she'd wear her new black bra and the necklace her dad bought for Christmas. It all made perfect sense.

"Don't wait up," she called to the fish as she ducked out of her door, keys in hand. She'd never been over to Young's place, which Rachel had previously remarked was odd, but she’d always respected his wish for privacy, and his fear that his place was too conspicuous, but she knew where he lived, as did all members of the team – and even if she didn’t, the large flag on the lawn was hard to miss.

* * *

She knocked on the door twice, added another rap for good luck, and swung back on the balls of her feet feeling thrilled with her fool proof plan: he'd likely be so happy to see her that he'd sweep her straight to bed.

So she was shocked, to say the least, when the hand that pulled open the door appeared to belong to a woman, a pyjama-clad, tousle-haired woman.

"Yeah?" She said, batting at her eyes. From the look of her, she'd tumbled out of bed before properly waking up. TJ was silent from shock, and actually felt guilty for getting this woman out of bed, and was half a breath away from apologizing and asking if she knew where Colonel Young lived, when the Colonel himself padded up barefoot behind her, equally sleepy and equally pyjama-clad. _Oh._

"Emily?" He said, placing a hand on the woman's back.

TJ felt sick, and dizzy, and rooted to the spot. She'd consider making a break for it if she didn't think her legs had turned to jelly. _Oh god, oh god, it's all making sense._ And it was, because it wasn't jealousy she was feeling, but pure embarrassment.

In half a second, Young recognized her, and it was a credit to his poker face that he didn't give anything away. "TJ!" He appeared genuinely pleased to see her, which confused her just enough to keep her from showing him how good her right hook had gotten. "Em, this is TJ – Tamara – I work with her."

"Oh," Emily was obviously not buying this, and looked at TJ with the precise amount of disapproval needed to make her feel like a dumb kid, out after bed time and wearing costume jewellery. "And why is she here?"

Young said nothing, patting small circles on Emily's shoulder to keep himself occupied, and TJ took this as her cue to say… _something._ "I had a report, to give to the Colonel, but it doesn't matter. I can see you're… busy." She felt little pinpricks behind her eyes, and was pretty certain that if she didn't get out of here soon she was likely to faint, or cry, or beat Young to a pulp. She backed away down the steps as she spoke, her heart in her stomach. It was all making sudden sense: the secrecy, the sneaking around, the fact that she’d never been over to his place before. _Oh god._

Young started after her down the steps, and the remorse in his face, the bumbling sort of pain where she knew that he'd go back in time to stop this if he could, was only making it worse.

On the porch, Emily's eyes had narrowed to slits as she put two and two together, and she slammed the door, leaving Young alone on the drive with TJ.

"Oh god, TJ, I –"

"Don't, ok?" She was fumbling for her car keys, and thinking a thousand different things at once: the look on Emily's face, the fact that she'd have to face him at work on Monday, but mostly how stupid she'd been, so stupid. "Just don't even bother explaining."

Young was stumbling after her, looking ridiculous in his boxer shorts and faded college t-shirt, trying to grab hold of her. "I swear, I –"

"You what? You were going to tell me? Tell her? Leave her for me, and we'll live happily ever after with our dozen kids and our Air Force pension? Yeah right." She was dangerously past the point of lucidity right now; she needed to get as far away from him as possible.

She'd backed herself all the way up to her car now, and was fumbling with the locks, gravelblind with tears.

"TJ just let me fix this – please?" She believed him, believed the pain on his face, but it all felt like some big joke. _Happy birthday Tamara… surprise!_

"No, just -" She wasn't sure what she was saying, but the anguish on his face made it clear that she had to say _something_. "Can we just... talk about it later?" When she'd had time to kick a wall or two.

"Sure, that's... what we do best."

She slammed the door on his stricken face, jammed her foot on the pedal and punched the steering wheel with as much force as she could muster. _Damn!_

* * *

TJ is twenty-seven, and shipwrecked light years from anywhere recognizable.

"So you… called it off?" Says Chloe, apprehensively – not that TJ can blame her, after hearing all that.

"Yeah. What choice did I have?"

"Right," Chloe nods, "His wife knew, and you both faced suspension."

"Exactly. I was going to quit; I had every intention of following Dr. Simms's advice and finishing med school. My scholarship was accepted, I just had to quit, and then Icarus was my last assignment…"

"And then –" Chloe gestures to the Destiny’s hyperspace thrum stretching out of observation deck before them, and then to TJ’s stomach, less and less conspicuous these days.

"Yeah." _That._


End file.
